


We’ll Be Okay

by raccoonsocks



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Flashbacks, Fluff at the end I guess, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Naegami, Oneshot, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, alcohol tw, danganronpa oneshot, i think??, naegami could also be platonic, self harm tw, technically???, theres blood ok, they both have ptsd, theyll be ok, they’re just kinda vibing in stuff like this i don’t rlly focus on relationships, togami needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:06:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raccoonsocks/pseuds/raccoonsocks
Summary: “You know, I get them too.”When the taller one gave a look of confusion, Makoto smiled awkwardly.“Flashbacks. Panic attacks and stuff too.”Byakuya looked dumbfounded. “Really?”“Yeah. You’re not alone, and I’m sure the others do too.” He took Byakuya’s hand in his own, squeezing gently. “You’re allowed to feel those things, you experienced trauma. It’s a natural reaction, as much as it can suck.”They sat in silence for a minute, before Byakuya squeezed his hand back.
Relationships: Naegi Makoto & Togami Byakuya, Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya
Comments: 4
Kudos: 216





	We’ll Be Okay

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda me just projecting onto both of them because kinnie,,, but here.  
> tw again just in case!! there is alcohol abuse in this!! it’s not super important but your triggers are! he also punches a mirror and theres some description of the blood so avoid that if it’d trigger you!!  
> y’all better be looking after yourselves or i’ll have to come and fight you

Byakuya had always held himself to a higher standard.  
He was calm, rational, detached.  
His reserved nature was something he could take pride in, and it kept him safe.  
Weakness was not an acceptable trait in such a prestigious family line.  
Hell, it wasn’t acceptable in his personal code.  
He knew himself inside and out, and he would not let any experiences break those walls he’d put up.  
Or so he’d thought.  
He’d thought that he was better than the pathetic, emotional imbeciles he saw on a daily basis, more intelligent.  
Yet here he was, on the floor in his office, having a panic attack.  
It’d started with the Future Foundation’s new employee.   
She was a happy-go-lucky girl, the kind of person Byakuya often couldn’t stand to be around, and had pigtails although she must’ve been around his age. Despite her immature demeanour, she seemed capable enough, and he’d been showing her the basics. Even if he was fairly important in the company, meeting newcomers was something he didn’t mind tasking himself with, and if anything it helped. Talking about mundane things and teaching them what he knew like the back of his hand was almost soothing.  
So why was it so easy to break all of that?  
The sound of her laughter, on their lunch break.   
He’d overheard a conversation between her and one of her coworkers, which was normal enough. Not that he meant to, he’d been reading. Then she’d laughed  
A high pitched, girly laugh, with a lot of energy. She sounded like _HER_.  
And it felt like the world was crumbling.  
Like any second he’d see one of his friends shoved aside and murdered, their corpse left in front of him.  
Like any second he’d live through everything again.  
Every thought was replaced with the overwhelming need to escape.  
He stood up abruptly, excusing himself as he speed walked, practically sprinted, to his office.  
And here he was.  
He shakily put a hand to his face, taking his glasses off less carefully than he could’ve hoped. They were discarded beside him, the lenses covered in tears, and he pulled his knees to his chest, putting his arms over his head as if to protect himself. He didn’t want to go back.  
He couldn’t.  
He couldn’t watch the people he’d grown to love die again.  
He just couldn’t.  
Frantically wrapping his arms around himself, he choked back sobs, feeing like the room was spinning.  
He’d lied to them.  
Framed them.  
Failed them.   
If he’d just found _HER_ sooner.  
He even put some of them to death.  
He should’ve known. He should’ve noticed the hints that it was _HER_.  
Now there was only six of them left.  
 _Six_.  
And he was one of them.  
He didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve whatever mercy whatever god had given him.  
He deserved to be dead.  
After everything he’d done...  
Gasping for air, he pushed himself up carefully, his legs shaking.   
He just needed relief of some kind.  
Grabbing the whiskey in a cabinet behind his desk, he opened it.  
He’d never been one to drink, but he knew it could numb people, make them relax, forget.  
That’s what he needed.  
He took a gulp, coughing at the burning sensation it left in his throat, but ignoring it.  
It was irresponsible to be drinking at work, but he didn’t care. He just wanted it to stop.   
No one bothered him in his office anyway. He’d given them specific orders not to.  
Sitting at his desk, he gulped some more alcohol, before resting his head in his hands.  
He was pathetic.   
Just one laugh, that’s all it had taken.  
That’s all it’d taken to bring him to tears, cause a panic attack, and now make him drink.  
He’d started to calm down a little, the tears slowing down and he could breathe better, but the trembling and the awful anxious feeling in his chest didn’t leave.  
Another mouthful.  
And another.  
And eventually he’d finished most of the bottle.  
Glancing at the clock, he realised he had a meeting with his... remaining classmates in twenty minutes.  
In a panic, he got up way too quick, a little off balance, and knocked the bottle over, alcohol spilling into his carpet. He groaned, but shook it off. That wasn’t important right now.  
He rushed into the bathroom, stumbling slightly and stared into the mirror.  
It was obvious he’d been crying. His eyes were red and bloodshot, dark circles underneath them from his lack of sleep lately. His nose and cheeks were bright red, tear stains covering his face. Even his hair was messy, and his shirt collar was creased from where he’d pulled it, trying to get more air.  
He splashed water on his face, hoping it’d hide it, but it wasn’t working. Smoothing his hair down did nothing.  
Togamis do not cry.  
And Byakuya Togami was certainly not meeting with his friends and allies who had never seen him show weakness, his previous tears plain on his face.  
He was pathetic.  
Makoto had been through so much worse. So much worse than him. He never cried, never complained.  
Makoto was a good person.  
He wasn’t.  
Looking back at himself in the mirror, the only thing he could feel was disgust.  
He’d always thought so highly of himself, but he was disgusting.  
He shouldn’t be alive.  
Trembling, he felt the tears coming back, desperately covering his mouth to hide the sobs.   
He held up a shaky fist, pulled it back, and smashed it into the mirror, squeezing his eyes shut as the glass shattered, falling into the sink.  
Then he realised what he’d done.  
His hand had shards of glass sticking out of his knuckles, blood already flowing down to his watch.   
The mirror was completely destroyed, apart from a few shards that had stubbornly stayed.  
Looking in them make him look _distorted_ , _inhuman_.  
It definitely expressed how he felt.  
Stepping back, he looked at the mess he’d left; the mirror, glass in the sink, his hand, the broken bottle, his glasses.  
It all showed how disgustingly weak he was.  
“What the fuck is wrong with me...” He whispered, voice breaking, as his legs started shaking again, forcing him to sit down under the sink.  
His knees were once again pulled to his chest, and he sniffled helplessly, staring at the floor.  
“T-Togami?”  
Makoto.  
He glanced up, a terrified look on his face, and quickly wiped his eyes, trying to hide his current state.  
He must’ve not heard him come in over his sobbing.  
Makoto came closer, care and worry written into every part of his expression.   
Byakuya went to shuffle away, catching his clean hand on some glass, and wincing.   
“Togami are you... okay?”  
He almost laughed at the question, because it was the stupidest fucking thing he’d ever heard.  
The scene around him gave the answer.  
“Yeah I’m fine.” He whispered, half laughing. Tears started to fill his eyes, threatening to roll down his cheeks again, but he refused to cry in front of Makoto. “Just fucking fine.” His voice was weak, cracking every few words, but he had enough remaining dignity to pretend it wasn’t happening.  
Makoto just stared at him, stunned.  
He had no idea how to react.  
Then he noticed the blood rapidly seeping out of the wound on Byakuya’s hand.   
“Shit-“ He muttered to himself, opening the cabinet quickly and fumbling to grab the first aid kit.  
He pulled out the tweezers, grabbing a bloody shard of glass from the wound and dropping it in a tissue.  
“S-Stop...” Byakuya mumbled, shaking his head.  
Makoto stopped to glance up at him, concern still obvious.  
“You shouldn’t have to clean up after me... I’m a fucking idiot.” He tried to pull some glass out with his fingers, but it just got stuck in them.  
“Here.” Makoto said gently, pulling the glass out with the tweezers. “I promise you, I don’t mind. What matters is if you’re okay.” He continued to remove the shards, trying to be as quick as possible.  
Then he disinfected the wounds, wrapping bandages tightly around them.  
He noticed Byakuya had started trembling, and quickly looked up, seeing tears in his eyes once again.  
“W-What’s wrong? Are you hurt? I can-“  
Byakuya wrapped his arms around himself again, the tears finally falling down his cheeks. “Why won’t you just hate me?” He sobbed, looking around at what he’d done.   
“Togami... why on Earth would I hate you?”  
“Look at me!” He gestured at himself. “After everything I’ve done, everyone I’ve hurt, everyone hates me...” He sounded almost pleading, trailing off at the end. “Why c-can’t you j-just... be like them.”   
Makoto pulled him into a hug, holding him tight. “I won’t hate you, and the others don’t either.”  
Byakuya originally tried to wrestle free, making Makoto loosen his grip, but the taller one quickly relaxed into the hug.  
“Come on, this cant be comfortable.” Makoto said gently, helping Byakuya up. “I’m guessing we’re not going to the meeting, huh.” He did a half hearted laugh, glancing around.   
Byakuya felt guilt building up, weighing down his chest as he looked at the mess he’d let Makoto see.  
Fuck, even he was a mess, he’d needed to be bandaged up.   
And all he’d ever done was be awful to him.  
“Do you wanna go home?”  
He gave a quick nod, refusing to look the shorter one in the eye.  
“We can go back to my house if you want?” Makoto gave him a patient smile, and Byakuya felt his heart melt.  
He didn’t deserve this, this stupid kid was a blessing.  
“Thanks.” He mumbled, the words still sounding weird in his mouth, but he didn’t have time to think about it, as he was soon dragged out of the building by an enthusiastic Makoto.  
How he managed to stay so energetic was one of science’s greatest mysteries.  
They soon got to Makoto’s apartment, Byakuya sitting on his sofa as he made tea and put Sherlock on the TV, since Byakuya loved to point out all the inconsistencies in it.   
The shorter one put an arm out, allowing Byakuya to come and curl up closer against him.  
He closed his eyes with a smile, feeling more at peace now. The apartment was safe, and Makoto was warm and perfect to cuddle up to.   
“Byakuya?”  
Byakuya opened his eyes, glancing up at Makoto. He’d used his _first name_ , and he sounded like he was thinking, so that’d gotten his attention.  
“You know, I get them too.”  
When the taller one gave a look of confusion, Makoto smiled awkwardly.   
“Flashbacks. Panic attacks and stuff too.”  
Byakuya looked dumbfounded. “Really?”   
“Yeah. You’re not alone, and I’m sure the others do too.” He took Byakuya’s hand in his own, squeezing gently. “You’re allowed to feel those things, you experienced trauma. It’s a natural reaction, as much as it can suck.”  
They sat in silence for a minute, before Byakuya squeezed his hand back. “You’re really strong for dealing with it. I didn’t even see half the things you did, I can’t imagine-“  
“You’re strong too.” Makoto said quietly, combing his fingers through Byakuya’s hair. “Things might be scary right now, but they’ll get better.”  
“Yeah.” Togami whispered.  
“We’ll be okay.”


End file.
